


In Cups of Coffee

by SomeSortofItalianRoast



Series: In Cups of Coffee [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anal Sex, Author Bucky Barnes, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bottom Steve Rogers, Captain America Reverse Big Bang 2019, Captain Marvel (2019) Spoilers, Condoms, Don’t copy to another site, First Kiss, Identity Porn, Lube, M/M, Modern Bucky Barnes, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Punk Steve Rogers, Safer Sex, Sexting, Top Bucky Barnes, Top Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-16 04:23:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19310542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeSortofItalianRoast/pseuds/SomeSortofItalianRoast
Summary: Steve Rogers works at Wide Awake, a pretentious hipster coffee shop in Brooklyn.  Bucky Barnes loves their coffee. It’s a(n awkward) match made in (Soulmate) heaven.





	1. Prologue :  Soulmates (Cup One)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [In Cups of Coffee](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/494104) by Emmatheslayer. 



> Written for the Captain America Reverse Big Bang 2019, based on art created by the amazing Emmatheslayer. A special shoutout to betas RavenclawWitch18 and Lillaby, as well as the RBB Discord Server.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art created by Emmatheslayer. See this and more art [ on LiveJournal](https://emmatheslayer.livejournal.com/586837.html).

__

 

_While they only make up an infinitesimally small fraction of the global population, Soulmates have been around for the entirety of recorded Human history, though the terms for Soulmates and Soulbonds have changed. The first recorded soulmates were in Sumar; though the record wasn’t translated until the Victorian Age, it spoke of a pair with an unbreakable bond, one forged in fire. Records of soulmates have appeared in surviving texts and legends from the Maya, Inca, the First Egyptian Dynasty, Mesopotamian civilizations, from before the Xia Dynasty in China, and in some of the oldest myths and legends of the indigenous peoples of North America._

_Fragments of poems and essays on soulmates have survived from Roman and Greek antiquity, proving the existence and acceptance of same-sex soulmates. Other surviving fragments discuss the existence of Triad Soulmates, and Livy had several famous Roman examples of Soulmate Triads in_ Ab Urbe Condita. _…as he was writing several centuries after the original texts were written, much of his writing on soulmates is usually taken with some amount of skepticism by the current academic literature._

 _In European culture during the Dark Ages and the Medieval Age, soulmates were revered, as referenced in the surviving texts. These texts include some Skaldic epics, most surviving Arthurian legends,_ Der Nibelungenlied, Beowulf, La Chanson de Roland, Tristan and Iseult, The Divine Comedy, _and_ The Canterbury Tales. _This trend continued into literature from the Renaissance and Elizabethan Eras, as found in the works of Miguel de Cervantes, Niccolò Machiavelli, John Milton, and William Shakespeare._

_Shortly after the beginning of the modern age (usually denoted as either the Revolution of the American Colonies in 1776 or the Execution of King Louis XVI in 1793), it became less common to write about Soulmates, though they appeared in all forms of popular, contemporary works in all genres, spanning from before Dumas until the current time. It is during this era that references to same-sex Soulmates become platonic only, and no references are made to Triad Soulbonds. …it remains unclear as to what prompted the change._

_…the United States of America was the first country to put a question about Soulmates on their census. …it was introduced on the 1950 Census after much debate._

_While there is much debate about why there are Soulmates - blame Plato - and why they are so rare, there is little to no debate about how Soulmates acknowledge their Soulbond - they touch. …By most accounts, there is a “tingle” or “jolt” that newly-Soulbonded Soulmates feel the first time they touch. …this “jolt” is both indescribable and unmistakable._

_By all accounts, from pre-Antiquity on, it is accepted that Soulbonds leave no Mark on either Soulmate. The sole contradictory account is that of Judas Iscariot, wore bore a Mark that appeared shortly after his betrayal of Jesus Christ. …This is the only report of its kind… …this account is not accepted by academics as an example of Soulmates having Marks._

_There is no test available that proves or disproves whether two or more people share a Soulbond._

_All cultures have different ways of acknowledging Soulmates and their relationships. In most countries, Soulmates are legally recognized as married, even same-sex Soulmates in countries where same-sex marriage is itself not legal._

_While Soulmates have been a perennial standard in scholarly books and academic journals, there was a decrease in Soulmates in popular media… …this decrease has never been clearly explained… …Soulmates featured a sudden resurgence in the last few years, prompting this author of this text to write a new edition of this book._

_…The resurgence of Soulmates in popular media can be directly attributed to_ Carol Danvers and the Skrull Invasion, _the debut young adult urban fantasy novel of Brooklyn native James B. Barnes, in which Carol Danvers learns the truth about her heritage through the strength of her Soulbond._

Excerpts adapted with permission from author.

All excerpts from the 5th edition of _Star-Crossed Lovers_ , written by Dr. Paul Hewson, Professor of Irish Literature at Coláiste na Tríonóide (Trinity College Dublin).

Hewson, P. D. (2017). _Star-Crossed Lovers: A history of soulmates from pre-antiquity to now (5th ed.)_. New York, NY: Marvel, Inc.


	2. Chapter 1 : Steve (Cup Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet Steve, barista at Wide Awake, a hipster coffee shop in Brooklyn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mention of an off-screen canonical character death (Sarah Rogers, cancer)
> 
> Art created by Emmatheslayer. See this and more art [ on LiveJournal](https://emmatheslayer.livejournal.com/586837.html).

Wide Awake was a pretentious hipster café, at least in Steve’s cynical opinion. To him, it attracted the worst pretentious hipsters Brooklyn had ever seen. There were the usual douchebags, the pretentious douchebags who worked on Wall Street, and finally there were the pretentious hipster douchebags who would order the most pretentious hipster shit on the extensive menu, both the coffee menu, the tea menu, and the café menu. He wasn’t entirely sure why Wide Awake had hired him, but the management paid him extremely well and it was walking distance from his apartment.

To an outsider, Steve looked a bit like the hipster clientele at Wide Awake, with his scruffy beard, the Taurus Zodiac sign tattooed on his left shoulder (it was his mother’s Zodiac sign and he got it shortly after she died of cancer), his flannel shirts, graphic tees, and black skinny jeans. All he’d need to blend in perfectly would be a knit slouchy beanie. It irked him to no end that he looked like the pretentious hipster douchebags that frequented the café and treated him like shit behind the counter, yelling at him when their drink wasn’t what they ordered (it was), it wasn’t the right temperature (it was), or any other of a thousand minor or not so minor slights that happened on a daily basis.

 

 

 

The reason Wide Awake attracted too many hipsters (of the regular, pretentious, or pretentious douchebag varieties) was their extensive menu, since they offered one of the largest espresso drink menus in Brooklyn, if not in the whole of New York City. Wide Awake roasts their own beans, which helps prevent over-roasting and the resulting bitterness, the most common complaint about the regular drip coffee from an international coffee chain that shall not be named. They also make their own flavor syrups, which meant that the flavor syrups tasted more like what they were supposed to taste like and were not as sweet. Along with an extensive coffee menu, they offered a refined selection of teas and tea-based drinks, including the ubiquitous London Fog, the rare Dublin Fog, and the unheard of Paris Fog. They offered a variety of cold drinks, from Southern-style iced sweet tea to refreshing Arnold Palmers, from every possible hipster flavor of brightly colored bubble tea to the refined French soda (which differed from the similar Italian soda of seltzer water and a shot of a flavored syrup, in that the French soda a bit of cream added to the seltzer water and shot of flavored syrup).

Their food menu was impressive, as well, considering that Wide Awake didn’t have a bakery attached to the café. It was a simple set of sweets, pastries, and other desserts for people who wanted something to eat with their coffee, but it was always excellent. While Steve wasn’t completely sure where the food came from, he knew that it was produced by a single baker in Brooklyn who supplied sweets to a few cafés like Wide Awake. He also knew that both the baker and the owners of Wide Awake had all the correct paperwork to sell it, as he’d seen it shortly after he’d been hired and he’d asked where the owner got the food. He might not like pretentious douchebag hipsters, but he wasn’t willing to sell them pastries that weren’t from a legit bakery.

The owners of Wide Awake lived up to their shop name - no matter how early Steve got there in the mornings back when he was still working the opening shift, one of them was always already at the shop, preparing the espresso machines, grinding coffee beans for drip coffee, or anything else that needed to be done before they could open and tackle the morning rush. After a few months, Steve asked if he could come a bit later in the morning and stay later in the afternoon and the owner agreed. Steve still worked the worst of the morning rush of uncaffeinated pretentious hipster douchebags and businessmen and businesswomen buying an office’s worth of lattes, but he didn’t have to get up at 4 AM any longer. It was worth it, even with having to stay later in the afternoon and having to bring his lunch to work.

It was one of those days, the day he met him - the sort of day where nothing was going _wrong_ but nothing was going right. Steve had sustained a few minor injuries that day - a few burns on the milk steamer, a pinched finger or two on the portafilter basket, a scald from a different coffee maker, and a burn or two from the new panini press. Nothing serious, nothing that was worse than a minor annoyance, nothing that required medical attention. Had the line been slower, Steve would have loved to put ice on his burns, but there hadn’t been time and the burns weren’t that bad.

By the time he met him, Steve had been yelled at by more than one PTA mom, had someone threaten to beat the shit out of him for getting their order wrong (he’d handed them _exactly_ what they’d ordered at the register), and had far had more rude customers than he could ever remember having on the same day. There had been parents who refused to watch their screaming and shrieking children while they were in the café and letting them run around unsupervised, several groups of nervous-looking college students drinking more caffeine that was probably safe as they typed page after page of homework, and numerous people having screaming matches with someone on the other end of their phone call.

The only reason he had stood out from the line of customers was that he was almost polite enough. The customers who were unfailingly polite made more of an impression on Steve, while the rude ones he forgot about. He’d been on his phone, talking to a person called “Peggy” about someone named “Carol” and something that might have been an “Infinity War”, but he’d been wearing headphones and as such he was speaking at a reasonable volume for the busy café. He’d said “please” and “thank you,” and smiled at Steve while Steve processed his credit card transaction. He’d even pointed to his headphones and mouthed ‘sorry,’ though he made no obvious attempt to end his phone call. He waited patiently for his coffee and pastry, smiling at Steve again when he collected them at the end of the café counter, and heading off with his to-go cup and wrapped pastry, still on his phone. He didn’t make much of an impression on Steve, the man who wasn’t enough of an outlier to be remembered as anything more than ‘hot guy who was on his phone but not, like, actively rude.” Steve simply rolled his eyes, wondering to himself when it had become reasonable to be on your phone when ordering at a café and generally forgetting the entire encounter with the customer with eyes the color of the sea.

It was three weeks later that Steve realized who ‘hot guy who was on his phone but not, like, actively rude’ really was.


	3. Chapter 2 : Bucky (Cup Three)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet Bucky. Also known as author "James B. Barnes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art created by Emmatheslayer. See this and more art [ on LiveJournal](https://emmatheslayer.livejournal.com/586837.html).

 

James Buchanan ("Call me Bucky, please!") Barnes had moved back to Brooklyn less than two years ago, back to where he’d grown up, after years away. He’d gone South for college, ending up at several prestigious and respected universities and graduate schools, coming out with an MBA and a lucrative job history with Wachovia, having been with them through the initial merger with First Union and the final buyout merger with Wells Fargo. He’d spent several years commuting back and forth between the original Wachovia headquarters in Winston-Salem and the post-First Union merger headquarters in Charlotte, before helping with the acquisition by Wells Fargo to avoid default after the 2008 financial crisis. It was just a few years shy of a decade after the Wells Fargo acquisition, when Bucky decided he’d had enough of North Carolina, enough of the South, and enough of the financial world.

Bucky had saved up quite a lot of money by the time he quit Wells Fargo and moved back to Brooklyn, moving into the same house he’d grown up in. His parents had been planning to retire to Florida since before he’d decided to quit Wells Fargo, so he bought the house from them and moved back in. It took him three months to become bored with not working and six months to decide that he wanted to write the novel he’d always dreamed of. Less than a year later, he was in the local newspapers as an up-and-coming writer in the borough, having written his debut young adult urban fantasy novel, _Carol Danvers and the Skrull Invasion_ , where Air Force test pilot Carol Danvers learns the truth about her heritage through the strength of her Soulbond to fellow test pilot Maria Rambeau. She and a ragtag group of misfits then saved the world from her former mentor and Kree Warrior Legend Yon-Rogg, and the Kree Supreme Intelligence, a genocidal AI hell-bent on destroying all civilizations not Kree. He’d set his book series in Winston-Salem (tapping in on a market segment of people who wanted to read urban fantasy novels set in the South, but not in the Deep South of Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, or Alabama) and hinted that the stories were semi-autobiographical. _Carol Danvers and the Skrull Invasion_ was very well received by critics. His upcoming second novel, already known to be about the Infinity War between Thanos and Carol Danvers, was one of the most anticipated books within urban fantasy readership circles, of both young adult and adult readers, despite not having an official release date.

Wide Awake had been recommended to him by many people, many times. On his social media accounts, he bemoaned that he hadn’t found a local coffee shop that had great coffee, something to eat, and where the owners would be amenable for him to spend hours writing at. Wide Awake was always the top recommendation, with the store-roasted beans being one of the top selling points, as well as the store-made syrups and decent pastries. According to the recommendations, they had decent wifi, and the owners made a point of not caring how long people stayed at the café during the day. The punk barista made great coffee and tea, even if he seemed to mutter about hipsters rather often. He’d walked past the café often, but had never gone inside.

He was on the phone with Peggy, his agent, arguing about his next book, the first time he’d gone in. He unsuccessfully tried to end the call several times, as Peggy was the best at keeping him on the line, reminding him about deadlines. He’d gotten to the register, the hot punk behind the counter working his way through the line with the Northern efficiency that Bucky had missed in his years in Winston-Salem, with Peggy scolding him about deadlines and word counts through his headphones as he ordered his coffee and his pastry. He’d tried to be as polite as he could, smiling at the barista, and had received an eye roll from “Steve” in return. The coffee, though, was well worth it. It was some of the best he’d had in years, and he’d scoped out a café table for future writing.

He spent a few weeks working on his next novel at Wide Awake, subtly trying to flirt with the hot punk barista, who ignored him for the most part, unless he was rolling his eyes at him. After _Carol Danvers and the Skrull Invasion_ ’s success, it was refreshing to have a place where no one bothered him and he could write with interruptions limited to buying himself more coffee or another pastry. While he had a nice place to work at in the townhouse where he grew up, he found that he had trouble writing at home, and it was easier to fight potential writer’s block at the café.

Three weeks after he’d first seen “Steve” at Wide Awake, they ran into each other on the streets of Brooklyn. Everything changed.


	4. Intermission 1 : Newly-Mated Soulmates (Cup 4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything you need to know about newly-mated Soulmates, but weren't sure how to ask.

_Newly-Mated Soulmates can not bear to be out of each other’s presence for longer than a few minutes as their bond stabilizes. This need usually abates within a few days to a few weeks, though some Soulmated pairs never gain the ability to be far apart from each other for long periods of time._

_Regardless of how long it takes for newly-Soulmated pairs to stabilize their Soulbond and gain the ability to separate themselves from each other, no matter for how long the separation or how far apart, the newly-Mated pair are drawn together…_

_There is some debate within the academic community about whether the length of time a newly-Mated pair can not bare the separation is indicative of the strength of their Soulbond, with one hypothesis positing that the longer it takes for new Soulmates to seperate, the stronger the bond. Others posit the opposite - that the soulmates who take mere hours have significantly stronger bonds._

_While a minority in the academic community, this second hypothesis is gaining traction. …Even staunch supporters of first hypothesis have become more accepting of the second hypothesis, especially within the last decade or so._

_The author of this text is firmly in the camp of the second hypothesis, though he must admit that his stance is based on the fact that his Soulbond to his wife took mere_ minutes _to stabilize, and that we have remained figuratively inseparable since 1974. Despite the incredibly, unbelievably, short length of time it took for our Soulbond to stabilize, our Soulbond has remained as strong as it was the day we Soulbonded, if it has not strengthened._

 _Much like the resurgence of Soulmates in popular media can be attributed to_ Carol Danvers and the Skrull Invasion, _so can the acceptance on the second hypothesis of soulmates within the larger, non-academic, community, as Carol Danvers and Maria Rambeau had only hours together to stabilize their Soulbond before they were forced apart. …Despite the general consensus of soulmates needing days to stabilize their bond, critics were not only accepting of the limited time needed for the Soulbond to stabilize, but said that it helped the progression of the plot._

 

Excerpts adapted with permission from author. 

All excerpts from the 5th edition of _Star-Crossed Lovers_ , written by Dr. Paul Hewson, Professor of Irish Literature at Coláiste na Tríonóide (Trinity College Dublin).

Hewson, P. D. (2017). _Star-Crossed Lovers: A history of soulmates from pre-antiquity to now (5th ed.)_. New York, NY: Marvel, Inc.


	5. Chapter 3 : Touch (Cup Five)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Still not letting go of Steve, “Bucky” pulled a pair of gray sweatpants with a faded “Wachovia” running down the right leg in dark blue and an equally faded blue t-shirt that had a vaguely-obscenely shaped white skyscraper printed on it, along with the words “Winston-Salem : we’re always happy to see you” from a wooden dresser drawer in what was likely his bedroom."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art created by Emmatheslayer. See this and more art [ on LiveJournal](https://emmatheslayer.livejournal.com/586837.html).

It all started when Steve was walking down the street, heading home and hoping to get some sleep. He’d barely slept the night before and the morning rush had been killer. He was clutching a to-go decaf London Fog in one hand, hoping that the warm tea and milk would help him sleep before he had to meet Sam at Central Park to see some damn rare duck with him when Sam got off work. He’d told Sam that he’d go running with him last week, and was wishing he hadn’t. He knew it would be something he should do, but right now, he would give almost anything for a long nap, not a catnap followed by fighting traffic to take the subway across the river to Manhattan to _look at a fucking duck_ , rare as it may be. He was tired enough that he wasn’t watching where he was going as much as he normally did, and didn’t see the man until they ran into each other.

They hit and bounced, Steve’s tea spilling all over his clothes as they tumbled to the ground. Steve apologized for not watching where he was going as fast as he could, rising to his feet as he steadied the person he’d run into, even as he thought obscenities at the man as loud as he could for not watching where _he_ had been going. Their hands clasped as they steadied each other and Steve felt the famed ‘jolt’ that signified Soulmates touching for the first time.

Time seemed to still.

Just for the two of them, caught up as they were in the bubble of new Soulmates, as New Yorkers rushed around them. An eddy in the stream, a port in the storm, a harbor in the tempest. The calm moment was broken when someone ran into the man again, crushing him against Steve and spilling the coffee that had miraculously survived their first encounter. Because of how Steve’s life went, the milky coffee splashed against Steve’s chest, soaking his shirt and the leather jacket he’d thrown over it that morning to cut the morning chill. Luckily, it was lukewarm, not hot.

The man made a pained sound, close to a whimper, when Steve stepped back from him, relaxing his grip on his wrist, and Steve realized that they were stuck together for the foreseeable future. They wouldn’t necessarily have to remain touching, but they would have to remain within each other’s sight and they wouldn’t be able to close any doors between them until the effects wore off. _So much for that nap_ , Steve thought, even as he stepped closer to the not-so complete stranger, tightly gripping his wrist to maintain the needed (if awkward) connection to the man he’d only ever seen at Wide Awake when making him coffee. The man who just happened to be his soulmate.

“I am so sorry,” the stranger who was his soulmate was saying, stumbling over his words, a blush staining his cheeks. “I wasn’t watching where I was going, Peggy was yelling at me about my… my work… and I just didn’t see you.” He blushed harder as he spoke, eyes bright. He seemed incredibly nervous, awkwardly clutching a crumpled paper coffee cup to his chest and staring at Steve with wide, clear, blue eyes.

“I didn’t see you either.” Steve took a half-step to his right and tossed his empty to-go cup into the trash can sitting there. His apparent _soulmate_ took a half-step with him, and seemed confused about his reaction, even as he tossed his now-empty to-go cup in the trash.

“I… I can’t seem to let you of you,” he said after a moment of staring at their now-clasped hands. “No, it’s not that I _can’t_ let go of your hand, it’s that I really don’t want to. I need to keep touching you.” He made a face and muttered something about how that sounded better in his head and how he used to be smoother. Nodding to himself, he looked up and asked, “Now what do we do?”

“I can’t let go of your hand, either,” Steve agreed. “But, we’re attracting attention and you know how New Yorkers feel about people standing on the sidewalk. Howz about we go somewhere and stabilize this bond before they get mad and start throwing things?”

The stranger, _his soulmate_ , nodded and hesitated before saying, with all the awkwardness of inviting a person you barely know who also happens to be covered in your spilled coffee somewhere, “Let’s go back to my place. We can get some coffee or something and I can have your jacket dry cleaned. My place is comfortable, anyway.”

“Sounds good to me,” Steve said, wondering for a moment why he was capitulating so easily, since he didn’t usually go back to someone else’s place without at least knowing their name. It was the easiest thing in the world, to agree, though. “I’m gonna need a shower, though, to get your caramel latte macchiato off of me. It’ll get sticky otherwise.”

“I got a great shower and I can even lend you some clothes.” The other man shrugged, and stepped in the direction he’d been going. “I may have to awkwardly hang out in the bathroom and watch you shower, but it’s a nice large bathroom. I had it remodeled recently.” He made a face, probably related to what he was saying about watching Steve shower, although it could be about the remodeling comment - Steve could tell that his clothing was nicer than his, and assumed that his place was nicer than Steve’s crappy apartment.

“Sure. Hope you live in Brooklyn. Not sure how I’d feel if you turned out to live in _New Jersey_.” Steve smiled to show that he was joking, even as he twisted around and changed which hand was clasped tightly by his soulmate, _his soulmate!_ , who laughed.

“Brooklynite born and bread. I live in the house I grew up in, actually. I bought it a few years ago, from my parents when they retired to Florida.” The stranger rambled all the way to his townhouse, left hand clutching Steve’s right tight enough to bruise. It wasn’t until he was unlocking his front door that Steve was able to ask his name.

“Oh, Bucky. Short for Buchanan. Well, my first name’s James, but how many “James” do you know…” He practically dragged Steve into the house, and up the stairs into a tastefully decorated bedroom. Still not letting go of Steve, “Bucky” pulled a pair of gray sweatpants with a faded “Wachovia” running down the right leg in dark blue and an equally faded blue t-shirt that had a vaguely-obscenely shaped white skyscraper printed on it, along with the words “Winston-Salem : we’re always happy to see you” from a wooden dresser drawer in what was likely his bedroom. He thrust the clothes at Steve and pushed them into the ensuite bathroom.

Steve got a whirlwind look at the blue-gray-green painted walls, and the dark blue bedding on a wooden platform bed that matched his dresser, before he was face-to-face with “Bucky’s” shower in his blue bathroom. “Bucky” reached as if to help him undress, before releasing his wrist for the first time and stepping back, bumping into the sink, and pointedly closing his eyes. It helped make the situation a little less awkward.

“I think I can shower on my own, Buck,” Steve said with a smile, already unbuttoning his jeans and pulling off his shirt. He dropped the last of his clothing onto the floor of the bathroom, turned on the water, and waited for it to heat up before getting in and pulling the mostly opaque shower curtain closed. It was one of those that was opaque from about mid-chest down, and clear upwards. Bucky’s eyes snapped open as soon as he heard the rattle of the shower curtain moving, and sighed with relief when he saw Steve, dropping into a seat on the chair in the corner, eyes never leaving Steve’s face.

“How about you tell me about yourself while I shower?” Steve asked, reaching for the shampoo. “I don’t really know anything about my new soulmate, other than you were born in Brooklyn, like Wide Awake’s pastries, like your coffee full of sweet syrups, and hopefully own more tee-shirts with dick jokes like the one you grabbed for me.” Bucky chuckled as he nodded and started talking.

“Plenty of them - it’s a thing in Winston-Salem, joking about the Wachovia Building,” he said, smiling. “Well, I was born in Brooklyn, but I moved to North Carolina for college. Went to Duke…” His voice filled the bathroom with warmth as Steve showered, telling him about his life.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the-genderman for reminding me about the Mandarin Duck in Central Park, also called "Hot Duck" [ Read more about the duck from this Guardian Story](https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2018/nov/08/mandarin-duck-central-park-new-york-city).


	6. Chapter 4 : Hot Duck (Cup 6)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Steve go for a run in Central Park. Or, Sam meets Bucky

After his shower, clean and smelling of Bucky’s soap and shampoo, Steve was feeling how exhausted he was. They’d had a difficult and awkward conversation about their mutual relationship status - wouldn’t it have been _weird_ if one of them was married or not into guys or something - but, for now, he was curled up on the couch with Bucky, sipping on some pretty phenomenal coffee while Bucky fussed over his clothing. While he was toweling off and changing into one of the many suggestive t-shirts Bucky owned about the building on Steve’s shirt, Bucky had changed into his own sweats (his were gray sweatpants that said “Blue Devils” down the right leg in dark blue and a blue shirt with that same vaguely obscenely-shaped white skyscraper and the words “Winston-Salem : the city that’s always up for it” on the shirt), and had gotten coffee started.

He’d fussed around the coffee machine, and made sure to prepare it exactly as Steve wanted it. It wasn’t much longer, curled up on the couch together, drinking coffee and discussing their lives, that Steve realized that he was slowly falling asleep. Bucky didn’t seem to mind, so Steve put his coffee down and curled more firmly against Bucky’s shoulder. He soon fell asleep, the exhaustion from the day before catching up to him to mix with the fading adrenaline from finding his Soulmate and Soulbonding with him. 

Sleeping against Bucky’s shoulder, breathing the man in, Steve missed their Soulbond stabilizing. It was as distinctive as the “jolt” that signified that they were Soulmates, but, somehow, more gentle. Less of a shock and more of the feeling of tension that you didn’t know you were holding releasing. Not that _anyone_ would have believed that their Soulbond could have possibly have stabilized as quickly as it did (not even that Irish academic who was the leading authority on Soulbonds; Bucky had emailed with him about the Soulbond sub-plot to his book). Asleep, Steve missed Bucky’s reaction, the look of shock that he gave Steve as the Soulbond stabilized, cementing their bond in a way that was almost completely unbreakable. It was at about that moment, Bucky looking at Steve in stunned shock, that Steve’s phone rang. 

Steve jolted awake, smacking into Bucky as he fumbled for his phone and tapped the screen. He groaned as the phone quieted, slumping back against Bucky and looking exhausted. 

“I don’t suppose you want to go for a run in Manhattan?” Steve asked, running his fingers through his hair. “I promised Sam I’d go look at this duck with him on his weekly run of Central Park. I can tell him that I can’t, if you don’t want to.” Steve yawned, stretching. 

“I’ll come with you. It’s always a good idea to meet the best friend.” Bucky stretched as he got to his feet, and headed back into his bedroom, leaving Steve on the couch. “Do you want to borrow those clothes or should we go back to your apartment before we head into Manhattan?”

“I’d borrow the clothes, but I need my running shoes,” Steve called back, slumping back on the couch. “If we leave now, we won’t be too late and I can text Sam and let him know we’re gonna be late.”

“Sure, give me a minute to find my running shoes.” There was a thumping sound from within Bucky’s bedroom, and Bucky re-appeared a moment later, hopping up and down on one foot as he worked his other shoe on. “Found them. Ready?”

“Yeah, let me find my…” Steve trailed off. “You sent my jacket out already?”

“It’ll be collected tomorrow and dry cleaned.” Bucky paused, considering. “I can have it returned to you somewhere else…? It must be awkward, yeah, our Soulbond?”

“Yes, it’s a bit awkward, the Soulbond, but, no, I expect I’ll be back here.” Steve shrugged, and took the water bottle Bucky offered him before they both left the townhouse, Bucky locking up behind them.

They lived closer together than Steve had realized earlier, with Steve’s apartment barely a 10 minute walk from Bucky’s townhouse. Though Steve was quick about finding his shoes, Bucky made no attempt to hide his snooping around the apartment. 

“It’s not as nice as your townhouse,” Steve said as they left his apartment and headed for the nearest subway entrance, joining the rush-hour traffic. 

“I liked it, though. Especially the plants. You made it yours.” Bucky paused, seeming to hesitate about something. “We are going to have to talk about something I didn’t mention earlier. It’s not bad, it’s good, but it’s important and… and I didn’t want your first thoughts of me to be this.” Steve studied Bucky as they waited for the next train, and probed at the Soulbond that he could almost feel. It didn’t feel threatened or indicate that he should be worried, it was just confused.

“Why, what it is?” Steve asked him just as the next train arrived, rattling down the tracks, and coming to a noisy stop. They rushed into the carriage and found a pole to hold on to as the train started moving again. It was noisy enough on the train that they couldn’t hold a much of a conversation, not that most New Yorkers _would_ hold a conversation on the subway, and they instead exchanged cell phone numbers and contact information, before texting each other with their thoughts on what had happened. Bucky’s texting was snarky and full of wit (even if he insisted that he would explain his comment later), and Steve could see a lot of texting in their future. He wondered how difficult it would be to convince Bucky that sexting was a good idea…

Before too long, they reached the Central Park station, and got out. Steve was supposed to meet Sam at the Southern entrance, near the pond with the aforementioned rare duck. They jogged over to the entrance, and Steve texted Sam that they’d arrived. He also took the chance to text Sam about the Soulbond, and if he could talk to him in the upcoming week or two about Soulbonds. He didn’t often take advantage of his friend being a VA counselor who spent a lot of time in Stark Tower, but sometimes it was too good to pass up. 

Sam jogged over a minute or two later. He was an attractive, mid-thirties black man with a tidy beard and a smile that would light up a room. He did a double take as he approached them, eyes zeroing in on Bucky before he laughed. 

“Only you, Steve,” he said, dragging him into a hug. 

“Says the man who wants company while he looks at a duck, Sam,” Steve ribbed as he returned the hug. After a moment, he stepped back and introduced Bucky. “Sam Wilson, meet Bucky Barnes,” he said. “My new Soulmate.”

“Damn, that must be awkward as fuck,” Sam said, extending his hand with a grin. “Sam Wilson, retired Air Force test pilot. I currently work at the VA; got my counseling license a few years back.” 

“Bucky Barnes.” Bucky extended his hand, adding, “author.” 

“I read any of your books?” Sam asked as they all jogged through the entrance and towards the pond. 

“My first book was well-received by critics,” Bucky said neutrally, nodding. 

“What’s your genre?” Sam asked as they rounded a corner.

“Young Adult Science Fiction/Fantasy.” Bucky kept his eyes on the path, pointedly ignoring Sam’s attempts to get Steve to do something. 

“Hey, Steve, your Soulmate’s first name “James” by any chance?” Sam asked after they’d jogged for about a hundred feet. His smile was evident in his voice. 

“Yeah, he told me he goes by Bucky because there are a lot of Jameses in the world.” Steve’s voice showed that he was confused by why Sam cared about Bucky’s first name. “Why?”

“Brooklynite James B. Barnes wrote that Carol Danvers book that’s supposed to be the next Harry Potter. Something about Soulmates.” Sam almost ran into Steve when he stopped abruptly, turning towards Bucky. 

“Is _that_ what you wanted to talk to me about?” Steve practically yelled at Bucky, shoving him playfully in the shoulder. “That’s quite a thing to leave out of your biography, Buck.” 

“Being forced to spend time with a complete stranger is awkward enough, without… without… without that.” Bucky gestured wildly with his right hand, almost smacking Steve in the chest. “I wanted you to get to know me as, well, **me** before you got to know me as “ _James B. Barnes, Hugo-award winning breakout artist with a book on the New York Times Book Review Best Seller list_ ,” Steve. You’ve never looked at me and seen him. I wanted to keep that as long as possible.”

“So you decided to keep something that important from me? When was I supposed to learn about that?” Steve asked, starting to pull away from Bucky as they jogged. Bucky gritted his teeth and kept up with him, glancing at Sam, who was keeping his eyes on the well worn and well marked Central Park path and pointedly not watching them.

“I wasn’t trying to keep it from you - it never came up!” Bucky snapped. 

“I asked you to tell me about yourself. You talked about some defunct bank in North Carolina but left out that you won a fucking _Hugo Award_?”

“Fair point, Steve, fair point.” They jogged next to each other for a few minutes. “Steve, you have to understand what I was thinking. You didn’t recognize me, you hadn’t recognized me at the coffee shop, _you didn’t know who I was_. I was… I was so happy to have finally met someone who wasn’t after the draft of my next book.”

“People have actually dated you to get your manuscript?” Steve sounded incredulous.

“More often than you would think, yes.” Bucky huffed a laugh. “Why do you think I’m considered a complete recluse on Twitter?” They both chuckled.

“I’m glad I learned about this, about you, early in our relationship,” Steve said after a few minutes of jogging silently, the only sound that of their breath. “If I’d learned about it later, it would seriously change things. I don’t like it when my partners lie to me about large, life-changing things.”

“Are you thinking about our relationship, our future?” Bucky asked, a small smile beginning to cross his lips. “You think we have one?”

“Soulbonds are an indication that a relationship is possible, right?” Steve asked, continuing at Bucky’s nod. “We have a Soulbond and we seem to be getting along well.” 

“I thought it was much too early to be considering our future together,” Bucky said softly. Steve slowed to a stop and took Bucky’s hands as he stopped. A few lengths behind them, Sam slowed to a stop, determined to give them privacy while also keeping an eye on his friend. 

“It’s not, no.” Steve cupped Bucky’s face, feeling the scratchiness of his stubble, and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, before resting his forehead against Bucky’s and saying, “I already know that I could fall madly, deeply, passionately, in love with you.” They stayed like that for a few moments, before Sam interrupted. 

“Okay, rub the Soulbond in the face of the non-Soulbonded,” he said, clapping Steve on the shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “Let’s go see this Mandarin duck and then you two can go be sickeningly sweet somewhere else.” He smiled, his entire face lighting up. “You’re inviting me to the wedding, right?”

Steve gave Sam _a look_ while Bucky blushed, though Steve was nodding. 

“Let’s go see your hot duck, and then we can go to my apartment so I can pack an overnight bag and we can head to yours?” Steve directed the question at Bucky, who nodded.

“Sounds good to me.” He paused, considering. “What’s a Mandarin duck?”


	7. Intermission 2 : The Soulbond (Cup 7)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "As such, the Soulbond will “encourage” the newly-Soulbonded to stay calm and to spend time together, often by preventing them from separating while the bond stabilizes, while also keeping them calm in the face of their new Soulbond."

_Despite what popular media (movies, television shows, and books) would suggest, Soulmates and the Soulbonded are not immediately married, nor is a future marriage even implied in the creation of the Soulbond._

_Some countries and cultures do hold Soulmates as married, including the United States of America and this author’s home country of Ireland. …Within the United States, a Soulmate pair is supposed to register their new Soulbond within thirty working days from the creation of the Soulbond to receive benefits. …These benefits are the same as those for a married non-Soulbonded couple, such as health insurance and tax deductions. …Soulmates are not legally required to register their Soulbonds, and there are no legal repercussions for failing to register a Soulbond, nor for registering a Soulbond more than thirty working days after it has been created._

_According to anecdotal evidence, most Soulbonds seem to happen between strangers, leading to awkwardness during the stabilizing of the new Soulbond, compounded by the popular belief that new Soulmates are suddenly in a relationship, one similar to a long-established relationship between two (or more) people. Imagine, if you would, walking down a street and running into someone. This can be New York, Dublin, Paris, Kyiv, or anywhere, really. Now, you’ve just run into a complete stranger on the street, and you feel the unmistakable “jolt” of a Soulbond. How would you feel? Excited? Awkward? Confused? It is unlikely that your first thought would be that of wedding preparation, but instead that of “what happens next?” and, most importantly, “ **who is this person **!?”.****_

_It is believed within the academic community, that the reason newly established Soulmates must remain within close proximity to each other while the Soulbond stabilizes, is to give the new Soulmates a chance to get to know each other. As awkward as spending the next few days with a complete stranger would be, knowing that you had an uninterrupted chance to get to know your Soulmate would probably help ease some anxiety._

_It is within this window, while the newly-formed Soulbond stabilizes between the new Soulmates, that the Soulbond itself is in the most danger, as it is at its very weakest. It is within this window that a Soulbond can be broken, with limited consequence to either of the newly-Soulbonded… …A Soulbond broken after this window, after the Bond has stabilized, has the potential to kill both of the pair._

_...As such, the Soulbond will “encourage” the newly-Soulbonded to stay calm and to spend time together, often by preventing them from separating while the bond stabilizes, while also keeping them calm in the face of their new Soulbond. Newly-Soulbonded couples often feel completely comfortable with each other within minutes, and tend to be willing to do things that would otherwise be deemed unsafe, such as go to an unknown location with a complete stranger. …During interviews, Soulmates have said that they weren’t sure why they agreed to go places with their new soulmate, but that it_ felt right. _They said that they knew that their new Soulmate wouldn’t hurt them and that they needed the time and space to complete the bond. …There are almost no reports of Soulmates hurting or killing one another within the window while their Soulbond stabilizes._

Excerpts adapted with permission from author.

All excerpts from the 5th edition of _Star-Crossed Lovers_ , written by Dr. Paul Hewson, Professor of Irish Literature at Coláiste na Tríonóide (Trinity College Dublin).

Hewson, P. D. (2017). _Star-Crossed Lovers: A history of soulmates from pre-antiquity to now (5th ed.)_. New York, NY: Marvel, Inc.


	8. Chapter 5 : Marvelous Marvels (Cup 8)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ve been invited to chair a panel discussion at Marvelous Marvels in San Francisco. It’s in three days, and I need to get there at least a day early, so I have to leave for California tonight.” Bucky muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like he was cursing his agent, editor, and publisher, before he sighed. “It’s a huge deal, doing this panel for me, even if I was invited at the last minute.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to TheAngstBuriTTo for coming up with the dick joke on Steve's shirt. 
> 
> Art created by Emmatheslayer. See this and more art [ on LiveJournal](https://emmatheslayer.livejournal.com/586837.html).

After their run through Central Park with Sam, Steve and Bucky returned to Steve’s apartment for just long enough for Steve to pack enough clothing for a few days at Bucky’s townhouse. They talked about the “Hot Duck” they’d seen in Central Park, declaring to themselves that it was quite a beautiful duck. Bucky thanked Steve for being understanding about the fact that he hadn’t told him about the bestselling author thing, and they made a point to be more open about their relationship in the future.

Steve called into Wide Awake for a few days off, so that they could make sure that their Soulbond had fully stabilized before they attempted to go anywhere without each other. They spent the next three days hanging out and getting to know each other, learning what genres of books, movies, music, and tv they liked. Steve brought up that they could consolidate their collections, since they had similar taste in entertainment. Bucky agreed, and they made plans to start moving Steve into his townhouse.

On their third day together, Bucky had a meeting with Peggy, his editor, about his upcoming book. Given that his most recent boyfriend had tried to steal various chapters from the upcoming manuscript, they decided not to introduce Steve and Peggy at the current moment, since she would be incredibly suspicious about the timing - Bucky had recently finished his first draft of _Carol Danvers and the Infinity War_ and that draft was due to Peggy today. Steve, ever the gentleman, had not asked to see the draft, saying that he would read it as a galley or advanced reader copy once it was finished. Bucky had promptly asked how Steve knew what a galley copy was, and had learned that Steve had worked for a bookstore and a library before getting the job at Wide Awake.

Shortly before Peggy was due to arrive to collect the manuscript, Steve headed back to his apartment, planning on getting some more clothing and some other things to bring back to Bucky. He was just turning the corner when a black car with deeply tinted windows pulled up to the front of the townhouse and two beautiful brunettes stepped out. The taller one was wearing a dark blue pantsuit, had her long hair pulled back into a ponytail, and was carrying a small leather briefcase. The other one was wearing a dark brown skirt suit and had her long hair in a complicatedly pinned twist that, along with her dark red lipstick, gave her a gentle old-fashioned look that Steve knew was both carefully cultivated and completely deceptive, given she was Bucky’s infamous editor, Peggy Carter. Like the other woman, who Steve thought might be Bucky’s agent (a woman named Maria who called him frequently), Peggy Carter was also carrying a small briefcase, though Steve was sure hers was steel instead of leather. He quickly slipped around the corner before they saw him watching them, heading back to pick up his clothing and a few personal items.

After collecting his clothing, some toiletries, and a few books, Steve headed back to Bucky’s townhouse to enjoy the rest of his day off. They’d been falling asleep on the couch every night, strengthening their already strong and stabilized Soulbond, and Steve found himself looking forward to the simple intimacy of their cuddles. He got back to Bucky’s townhouse just as the black car pulled away and Bucky texted that they’d left, and let himself in.

Bucky was pacing in the kitchen/living room/great room, looking harried and frustrated as he argued with someone on the phone. Something that included the words “con” and “San Francisco.” He waved at Steve and kept talking. Steve headed into their shared bedroom and unpacked his bag, half listening as Bucky argued about seats and layovers. After 10-15 minutes, Bucky wandered into his bedroom, pulled out a small rolling suitcase, and started laying out clothing on his bed. He grumbled something about the weather as he pulled out a suit.

“What’s up, Buck?” Steve asked, settling into the chair in the corner of Bucky’s bedroom.

“I’ve been invited to chair a panel discussion at Marvelous Marvels in San Francisco. It’s in three days, and I need to get there at least a day early, so I have to leave for California tonight.” Bucky muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like he was cursing his agent, editor, and publisher, before he sighed. “It’s a huge deal, doing this panel for me, even if I was invited at the last minute.”

“What’s Marvelous Marvels?” Steve asked.

“Marvelous Marvels : LGBT Representation in Science Fiction and Fantasy,” Bucky rattled off as he rolled up his briefs and put them in a travel cube. “It’s a convention. This one has both original content creators and fan creators on panels. There should be a lot of artists setting up shop in Artist’s Alley, and lots of people in costume.”

“Sounds fascinating.” Steve considered something for a few minutes before asking Bucky if he wanted company during the trip. Bucky shook his head.

“I’d love for you to come with me, but I’d have to explain about our Soulbond to Peggy and we’ve already talked about how we want to wait a bit before we do that. Since our Soulbond has stabilized, we’ll be fine being apart for so long, even if it will be tough.” Bucky looked a little forlorn. “But we can text. All the time. As much as you want. I’ll get back to you when I can, which will likely be at the end of the day, but text me.” Bucky finished packing up his bag, slid his laptop into a laptop bag followed by a charge cable and a small pouch of other electronics, pulled a suit bag from his closet and put his suit into the bag. He walked into the ensuite bathroom, and came out a minute later with a two small bags of toiletries, which he slid into the small rolling case. He paused and muttered to himself as he went over his mental checklist for last-minute panel talk invitations. After a moment, he nodded to himself and wandered over to his desk and picked up a key ring.

“Here, you can stay here, if you want. Maybe move some of your stuff over, make it more _ours_ and less mine.” Bucky shoved the keys into Steve’s hand, closing his fingers over them. “Seriously. Bring your shit over. Bring yourself more clothes. Move your plants in. Spend the night. Head to work from here.” Bucky looked at Steve, gave him a tight smile, and headed out of the room, Steve following, hands loosely closed around the key Bucky had just handed him.

“If you’re sure?” Steve asked hesitantly, already seeing where he could put some of his favorite plants in Bucky’s townhouse. The orchids would love the back windows, the African Violets would love the front windows, his dark-loving spider plants and shamrock plant would do really well in Bucky’s bedroom, and his herbs would adore the back deck.

“I’m sure.” Bucky put his bags down in the hallway, turning back to Steve with a smile. “We’re Soulbonded, we seem to like each other well enough, and we’ve talked about our future. That’s good enough for me.”

“If it’s good enough for you, then it’s good enough for me,” Steve agreed. “When will you be back from, what was it again? Marvelous somethings?”

“Marvelous Marvels : LGBT Representation in Science Fiction and Fantasy,” Bucky confirmed, nodding. “Not before the gala I mentioned yesterday?”

“That’s in two weeks?” Steve asked, feeling as if he was already missing Bucky, despite Bucky standing in front of him.

“Yeah, two weeks. According to Sharon’s, my publicist, itinerary, I’m supposed to give a few television appearances and do at least one book signing. She’s taking advantage of the fact that I’m rarely on the West Coast, especially long enough to do publicity appearances.” Bucky sighed. “I’ll fly into New York with just enough time to get from the airport to Stark Tower for the gala. Maria will make sure that someone brings my tux to the Tower. I did mention that you could be my “plus one” to the gala, right?”

“Would we have to make a statement?” Steve asked, already thinking about the potential issues. “I know you said you wanted to wait a little while?”

“Only if people ask after the gala,” Bucky said with a smile. “It’s an invite only guest-list event held at one of the most secure buildings in New York, if not the world. It’s the perfect event for a reclusive author to use to debut his boyfriend.”

“Works for me - I’ve always wanted to see the inside of Stark Tower. See if it’s as ugly on the inside as it is on the outside.” Steve paused for a second, before gesturing to his shirt (dark blue with the white skyscraper Steve now knew was the Wachovia Building and the words “Wachovia : The {Sperm} Bank of America” on it) and saying with a smile, “I’d make a joke about Stark compensating for something, but Winston-Salem seems to have that covered.”

“That they do,” Bucky agreed with a smile, before clearly considering something. “Do you have a tuxedo?”

“No?”

“You’ll need one. I’ll text my tailor on the way to the airport and have them squeeze you in for a fitting, a tux. If you’re going to be accompanying me to events in the future, you’re going to need one. Both black tie and white tie, but we’ll get to white tie later.” Bucky glanced at his phone, grimaced, and glanced back at Steve. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you at the gala in two weeks.” With that, Bucky cupped Steve’s face between his fingers, and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.

Steve gripped Bucky’s hips, pulling him against him as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into Bucky’s mouth. They made out for a few minutes, until whoever was picking Bucky up honked, pulling them back into the present. Bucky looked desperate as he pulled away and left his townhouse. Steve watched from the window as he got into the black town car, his phone buzzing with a text from Bucky.

 _I miss you already_.

 


	9. Chap 6 : Long Distance Love (Cup 9)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Dear Darlin' why you so far away/I spend the night and most of the day/Dreaming of you/Dear Darlin' I swear that it's true/Only thing getting me through/Is dreaming of you, yeah"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics taken from [ "Long Distance Love" by Rick Parfitt](https://open.spotify.com/track/2XRcBRiqhnM7HKqZStUwCP?si=Qq9YeV77SbSS1ugWIIdPjw).  
> David, John. (2018). Long Distance Love. [Recorded by Rick Parfitt]. On _Over and Out_. [Audio File]. Hamburg, Germany: Ear Music.
> 
>  
> 
> Art created by Emmatheslayer. See this and more art [ on LiveJournal](https://emmatheslayer.livejournal.com/586837.html).

Steve spent the next day missing Bucky. It took all of his willpower not to text him constantly, just to see the little “delivered” message under his texts. They’d texted whenever Bucky could get a spare moment, until he’d had to go to sleep, snuggled into Bucky’s bed. It was around the middle of Steve’s shift when a sappy pop song came on the radio.

Under normal circumstances, Steve would have rolled his eyes and gone back to work. This time, however, Steve paused and listened to the song, thankful that there weren’t any customers in need of his help. The song was about a couple in a long-distance relationship who hadn’t seen each other in far too long. It might have been a sappy pop song, but it gave Steve an idea.

During his lunch break, he looked up the lyrics and texted Bucky the first line, accompanied by a kissy-face emoji. Bucky didn’t reply, and Steve texted him lines throughout his lunch break and on his walk back to Bucky’s apartment. It was late evening, while Steve was streaming a British crime tv show after making himself dinner, that Bucky texted back, a simple _?_ followed up by _I’m not sure I understand; we’ll be back together in two weeks_.

 _It’s a song. Played on the radio at work today, multiple times_. Steve hesitated, before adding, _Can I call you? _He paused his tv show and started gathering his things.__

 _Sure!_ Bucky texted back, almost immediately, and soon his phone was vibrating with the incoming call.

“I know you only left yesterday, but it feels like weeks ago,” Steve said as he answered the phone.

“ _It’s the product of a new Soulbond_ ,” Bucky said. “ _Most people can’t be in different rooms this soon after a Soulbond, much less opposite sides of the contiguous United States_."

“True,” Steve agreed, picking up his laptop and heading into Bucky’s bedroom, asking Bucky about his day. No, not Bucky’s bedroom, _their_ bedroom. He shucked his jeans and flopped onto the bed, relaxing into the pillows and Bucky’s lingering scent. Hearing Bucky’s voice made him relax muscles that he didn’t even realize were tense and soon he felt a low buzz of arousal as they talked.

Bucky was complaining about his various flights across the country, and how he had a television appearance the next day on a breakfast tv show. Steve commiserated about how awful it was to fly, though he did give Bucky a hard time about how he flew first class on a private jet, and how life’s a lot easier when you get free alcohol and a comfortable seat. Bucky laughed and told Steve that he would get to experience all the joys of first class and private jets the first time he flew with Bucky somewhere, before adding that he’d texted his tailor and Steve had an appointment within the week for a fitting. There wasn’t time to make a bespoke tuxedo, but there was time to properly fit and tailor one.

After a moment of listening to Steve breathe (strangely soothing), Bucky asked Steve about his day, and Steve regaled him with what happened at Wide Awake that day, talking about the special, seasonal, coffee drinks and the playlist one of the owners had been playing for the last few weeks - a selection of sappy love songs that spanned all genres. It wasn’t quite long enough, so it repeated throughout the day, and there was a limit to the number of times he could listen to U2’s “Everlasting Love,” Bono’s “Can’t Help Falling In Love,” Cascada’s “Every Time We Touch,” Roy Orbison’s “I Drove All Night,” The Bay City Rollers’ “I Only Want to Be With You,” and Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You Up” (did it count as a rickroll if the song was on a playlist that he wasn’t responsible for?) amongst many others before they drove him nuts. Bucky laughed at the story, interrupted by a huge yawn.

" _It’s getting late in New York and I have a TV appearance early California time, so I need to get some sleep. Call me tomorrow_?” Bucky asked.

“Can’t wait,” Steve said, meaning it. “I’ll text you all day, send you pictures of the specials board so you know what you’re missing out in Cali.”

Bucky chuckled. “ _I’d like that_ ,” he admitted, yawning. They murmured to each other for a few more minutes until Bucky insisted that he really did have to go, and that they would be able to talk the next day. After hanging up the phone, Steve lay in Bucky’s bed, in their bed, and thought of what it had been like to lie in bed with Bucky. He drifted off to sleep thinking about Bucky.

The next day, Steve texted Bucky constantly, starting with a selfie in the kitchen with one of his plants, followed up by a shot of the special’s board (Wide Awake had a chalkboard and one of the owners handwrote the daily specials on the board) advertising a “ginger and lime mole mocha” and several shots of his mundane activities (lunch, walking back to Bucky’s townhouse, dinner). Bucky replied with a few emojis and a selfie of himself backstage before the breakfast tv show. Late that evening, after a dinner meeting with someone, Bucky called Steve and they spent a long time talking about their days. Steve fell asleep listening to Bucky’s voice, snuggled into blankets that still smelled of him.

They did that for the next few days, sending selfies and texting each other throughout the day, until Marvelous Marvels was over and Bucky was doing a short publicity tour. One of them usually fell asleep during their phone call, since they were several hours apart and Bucky had to be on West Coast time for his morning appearances and Steve had to be up early enough for the breakfast rush at Wide Awake. They’d been flirty in their texts and Steve was hoping that sexting was on the agenda, since Bucky was finished with his convention commitment. He’d gone for his tuxedo fitting, and taken a few photographs in the dressing room of how he would look once it was ready. He would look damn good, if he was any judge, and he hoped Bucky would agree.

It was that evening, after dinner after his long day at work and his fitting, that Steve sent a picture of his ass in his tuxedo slacks. He’d had to twist around to get the pose right, but he looked more seductive than he’d expected, giving that he was taking a picture of his own ass. Bucky didn’t respond for a while, longer than usual, even when he was at events or doing publicity, and Steve soon started to worry that he’d accidentally moved their relationship forward too fast, that Bucky wasn’t ready for sexting or phone sex. He was grateful that he’d chosen to send a picture of his clothed ass and not of his dick when Bucky sent him a picture. One of his left hand curled suggestively around the neck of a beer bottle. Followed up with a winky-face emoji.

Well, there was no other way to take _that_ was there? Grinning, Steve palmed himself through his lounge pants until his dick was clearly visible, if covered, and snapped a pic. He relaxed into the couch cushions, palming himself lightly, just enough to stay interested, while he waited for Bucky to respond. Bucky’s response was a backstage pic of a television studio, followed by the words, “ _you would send me a dick pic less than 5 minutes before a tv appearance, wouldn’t you?_ ” The next picture showed that his “beer” was a root beer. The bottle was propped suggestively in Bucky’s lap.

 _Call me when you get back to the hotel?_ Steve texted, laughing to himself as he hauled himself to his feet to clean and put away his dinner dishes. He ignored his arousal as he did that, taking his time doing the last few days worth of dishes, before taking a long shower. Bucky’s tv tapings never lasted less than an hour, even for a less than five minute snippet, so he had at least two hours before Bucky called. He was just stepping out of the shower when Bucky texted him a picture of his lap, his erection clearly visible against his slacks.

_That interview was rather hard _, he texted. _I’ll be back at my hotel in a little while_.__

Steve laughed as he dried himself off and pulled on a pair of briefs and another pair of lounge pants. He pulled a bottle of lube out of the bedside table, and stroked himself through his lounge pants a few times. He relaxed against the pillows and let his feeling of arousal build as he teased himself lightly. He was beginning to wonder how long Bucky’s ride to his hotel was when Bucky called.

“ _Sorry, I had to stop for lube_ ,” Bucky started with, adding “ _told my driver I’d run out of toothpaste_.” The bed made a noise as Bucky hopped on it, relaxing back with a sigh.

_“You stopped for lube? You didn’t bring any with you?” Steve asked, pulling his lounge pants down and pulling his dick out of his briefs. He gave himself a stroke, already reaching for the lube._

“ _I ran out_ ,” Bucky admitted. “ _Didn’t expect to use as much as I have_.” He sighed into the phone, and Steve heard the click of the cap of a bottle of some sort.

“We doing this?” Steve asked. “We having phone sex? I’m all for it, I just want to make sure you are.” He uncapped his bottle of lube and squeezed some on his fingers, letting it warm up a bit.

“ _It’s on my bucket list, phone sex_ ,” Bucky admitted. He made a soft noise and then moaned slightly. “ _I’m so hard I can’t think straight_."

“So am I,” Steve said, stroking himself with long, slow, twisting strokes, huffing out his breath into the phone. “Do you want to do anything or just listen to each other?”

“ _Not sure_ ,” Bucky said with a drawn out moan, _All I know is that I want to hear you come_.” Steve chuckled into the phone, his strokes speeding up as he carefully rubbed lube along his rim.

“I can’t wait until I can kiss you, ravish your mouth while I stroke you,” he said. Bucky’s breath hitched, and he moaned again. “I’m a bit of a talker, but it sounds like you like that. You just stroking yourself or fingering yourself?”

“ _Fingers_ ,” Bucky moaned, “ _love the feel of being filled, wish it was your dick. I’d ride you all night and then fuck you until you’d feel it _.”__

“I’d like that,” Steve said, putting more lube on his fingers and sliding two fingers inside himself. He thrust them lightly, crooking them until he rubbed up against his prostate. “I’m fingering myself, too. Feels good. God, I wish it were your fingers, you’ve got great hands. That was something I noticed at the coffee shop, your hands.” He crooked his fingers against his prostate and rubbed the head of his cock with his other hand.

“ _If we didn’t have the gala, we wouldn’t get out of bed for days after I get back_ ,” Bucky said, his breath hitching on cut-off moans. “ _I’m not sure I’m going to be able to keep my hands off of you at the gala_.”

“Then don’t,” Steve said, crooking his fingers again and moaning. “Ravish me in the coat closet, if you must.” Bucky moaned at that, a whine on every exhale. “You must be close."

“ _So close, so close_ ,” Bucky whined. Steve braced his feet on the bed, crooked his fingers again, and sped up the speed of his strokes, sure that the sound of flesh on flesh was audible to Bucky through the phone. Bucky moaned a few times, seeming to drag out his orgasm, before he made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a grunt, clearly coming. Steve made a few abortive thrusts into his hand and came with a sigh, streaking come all over his hand and belly.

“I like being fucked through my orgasms,” Steve said, keeping his fingers against his prostate as he continued to messily come. “Fucked _hard_. Just so you know.” Bucky groaned at him.

“ _So do I_ ,” Bucky said. Steve couldn’t see what he was doing but he was sure Bucky was enjoying the afterglow of a good phone sex session. “ _We can do that again_.”

“What about Skype sex?” Steve asked before he could think about it.

“ _It would be nice to see what you look like when you come… I’ll think about it… Not sure how secure my hotel’s wifi is_.” There was the sound of a sink running, and Bucky’s voice was a bit faded as he spoke, “ _I’ll call you tomorrow and see you in a few days at the gala. I can’t wait to see you. I can’t wait to be with you_.”

“I can’t wait to see you, either. I miss you so much,” Steve admitted, forcing himself to get out of bed and clean the cooled come off of his skin before it dried and got itchy. Bucky murmured something into the phone before disconnecting. A few moments later, his phone buzzed with a text. Bucky had sent him a photo of himself standing shirtless in front of the mirror in his hotel room, hand on his cock. No caption needed, he thought, and made a mental note to send Bucky proper dick pic the next day, as a thanks.

 


	10. Epilogue : Stark Tower (Cup 10)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve attends an authors' gala at Stark Tower; or, Steve meets Tony Stark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are two sentences during the sex scene that show that Steve thinks that Bucky's asshole ex-boyfriend (Brock) was abusive towards him.

The remaining days before the gala passed in a blur of work, lunches with Sam, tuxedo fittings, and phone sex for Steve. He worked his usual shift at Wide Awake, making a point to text Bucky picture of the specials board, of his fittings, and the occasional dick pic. Bucky replied with lots of emojis and dick pics of his own.

The morning of the gala dawned with Steve on his way to his morning shift at Wide Awake. He got through his shift without giving away how distracted he was, despite a near miss with the steamer wand while making an extra-hot latte. He made sure to snap a pic of the specials board and send it to Bucky, who was doing one last television taping before heading to New York for the gala. Thanks to his tight schedule, Bucky would arrive at Teterboro Airport and take a shuttle straight to Stark Tower in Midtown. He’d texted Steve to let him know that his publisher was sending someone to collect his tuxedo from his townhouse. Lucky, Steve was working when they came, and Bucky’s tux was in the front hall closet. He always put it there after he wore it, to make it easier for someone to collect if it needed to be cleaned or collected for an appearance when he was away.

On his way back from Wide Awake, Steve got himself a manicure from a salon he’d been to a few times. He hadn’t gotten them until he became a barista, when he learned that the bankers and other wealthy people judged him for not having perfect nails and sometimes his hands needed professional care after washing them every few minutes. He figured that a gala at Stark Tower would judge him for not having gotten a manicure, especially if Stark himself was there.

Once his manicure was finished - it was quick because he didn’t get any polish - Steve collected his tuxedo from the tailors and returned to Bucky’s townhouse. He had a few hours to kill, hours that Bucky was going to spend in the air on his way back to New York. He cleaned up the kitchen, and was about to get a shower when he remembered to check his supply of condoms and lube. He’d used some of his lube and Bucky was in dangerously short supply of lube (his condoms, when checked, had expired almost two years ago), so he made a supply run to the corner store, buying a box of the (expired) condoms he’d found in Bucky’s medicine cabinet and a box of his preferred brand, as well as two bottles of lube. The smirk the guy behind the counter gave him was amusing, since he was stocking up, not hoping to get really lucky. He simply smirked back at the guy as he paid and headed back to Bucky’s townhouse to get ready for the gala.

Back at the townhouse, Steve stashed his supplies and got a long, luxurious, and thorough shower, getting himself ready for the gala. He carefully pulled on his tuxedo, tucking a few condoms and a few packets of lube into a small reusable resealable bag, tucked that into his pocket (hell, yes, he was expecting to get lucky at the gala), and took a few pictures before tucking his invitation into his other pocket. Bucky had left him the “plus one” copy (Stark always includes an original and a “plus one” copy so that guests could arrive separately). All he had to do was hand over his copy to security at the gala.

At the time mentioned, Steve received a text telling him that the car Bucky had sent had arrived. That had been a minor argument, a few days ago, with Steve being adamant that he could get himself to the gala via the subway (Stark Tower was not only right next to Grand Central, _it had its own subway entrance_ ), while Bucky had been equally insistent that Steve show up in a car. Finally, Bucky explained that, as his date, Steve needed to show up as though he was used to fame and fortune, that attending an author’s gala hosted by none-other-than Tony Stark was something that was normal, and the way to do that was to show up in a hired black sedan. Steve had reluctantly agreed, not wanting to make Bucky look bad.

Once at the gala, he handed over his invitation, which got him a raised eyebrow but no comment, and he was led to an ornate elevator and sent to the penthouse. The Stark Security man barely disguised as a doorman slash elevator operator used his badge to open the doors and again to select the floor. Steve smiled politely at the man as they rode up to the penthouse, the guard having to use his badge a third time to open the doors. Steve hoped that Stark and anyone who regularly needed access to the penthouse had a more efficient system, one that Stark wasn’t likely to use during a gala like tonight’s. The doors opened and Steve thanked the guard as he stepped out and into the party.

The gala passed quickly for Steve, who wandered around the party, helped himself to some of the circulating hors d'oeuvres, and got a drink at the open bar. He made small talk with some authors he vaguely recognized, as well as some people he was reasonably sure were supermodels. He briefly spoke with Pepper Potts, the CEO of Stark Industries, who directed him to where Bucky was standing, half-hiding behind a decorative column and looking bored. Steve had seen him earlier during the gala, but he’d been ushered over to a group of people standing at a table marked for authors who had written their debut novel. Steve didn’t feel comfortable approaching the table, since he knew he wouldn’t be content to shake Bucky’s hand and walk away as if meeting a stranger.

They greeted each other reservedly for anyone watching, since their relationship was still hidden from Bucky’s editor and agent. Steve, standing next to Bucky for the first time in two weeks, felt their Soulbond relax in such a way that made him feel relieved in a way he didn’t know was possible. He spent the rest of the gala as close to Bucky as he could, only leaving his side when he went to refill their drinks.

The gala was winding down, people slowly making their way down to the ornate lobby, when Tony Stark himself appeared at Steve’s elbow. Steve managed to avoid jumping at his surprise appearance by virtue of the number of times the bells over the door at Wide Awake had jingled while he was at a delicate stage in making a latte. Stark was wearing a classic black tuxedo, his bow tie undone, and was holding a glass of scotch (he was so close that Steve could smell the peat, as well as his aftershave). He was smirking at Bucky like he knew something no one else did, eyes sparkling.

“So you were able to make my gala?” he said, taking a sip of his scotch. “I thought you’d abandoned me for sunny California.”

“As if you don’t have a house in Malibu,” Bucky replied, giving Stark a hug instead of a handshake. “It’s good to be back in New York. Can’t wait to be home, though.”

“As much as I love New York, that’s how I feel about the Malibu house,” Stark said, before looking at Steve and smirking lavisciously. “Though the view certainly doesn’t hurt.”

“Steve Rogers,” Steve said, extending his hand to Stark, mentally reminding himself that he needed to appear as though this was something he usually did, make small talk with people like Stark.

“Tony Stark. But I think you already knew that. What do you do, Steve Rogers?” Tony’s deep brown eyes never left Steve’s face.

“Truthfully? I work at a coffee shop in Brooklyn.” Steve smiled slightly as Stark clearly reconsidered him. “It’s called Wide Awake and I pull a pretty decent shot of espresso, if I do say so myself.”

“Then you must be Bucky’s plus one,” Stark said after considering Steve for a few moments, before turning back to Bucky, eyes narrowed. “You should have told me you were bringing a plus one.”

“I wasn’t sure if Steve would be able to come to the gala with me, or I would have let you know,” Bucky said, with a conciliatory air. “We’ve only been dating for a short time, and I was on the West Coast for most of that time.”

Tony’s sharp eyes narrowed again, before he turned that piercing gaze back to Steve, clearly considering something. “Is he after your manuscript? Remember what happened with Brock -” Bucky gave Tony a look that would have peeled paint, and Steve decided he needed to intervene.

“I’m actually Bucky’s Soulmate,” he said, surprising himself and making Tony Stark the second person he’d ever told. “And I plan to wait for a galley copy of the novel.”

“Soulmate, huh? You must have Bonded recently.” Tony gave them another, considering, glance, before cocking his head to the right. “Remember, I have rooms prepared for all my guests.” With that statement, Stark pretended to hear Pepper calling for him and headed off in her direction.

“Rooms prepared for all his guests, huh?” Steve asked, leaning into Bucky’s space. Bucky looked exhausted.

“Yeah, it’s so no one drives home drunk.” Bucky leaned against Steve’s chest, relaxing against him. “Not really necessary, considering that everyone here came in a valeted car.”

“Besides gossip, is there any reason we shouldn’t take our host up on his gracious offer of a room for the night?” Steve asked, mouthing along the back of Bucky’s neck.

“He already knows we’re Soulmates, and the rooms are available to all invited guests, no questions asked.” Bucky turned his head and snuck a quick kiss against Steve’s cheek.

Steve leaned forward and whispered in Bucky’s ear, “Does that mean I can fuck you in a guest suite Stark Tower?”

“Only if I can fuck you in a guest suite in Stark Tower,” Bucky said, before blushing.

“I think that can be arranged. What do we need to do to find our room?”

“Follow me.” Bucky started towards the elevator. He caught Tony’s eye and smirked. Stark winked in response. “I came straight here from the airport - brought my luggage with me - as I needed a place to shower and change.”

“You and Stark seem to know each other pretty well,” Steve said as they stepped into the elevator. “Well enough that he knows about a previous boyfriend.”

“That’s a story for another day. I don’t want to be thinking about Brock when you’re fucking me,” Bucky said. Steve gave him a look that said that he wasn’t going to drop it, so Bucky sighed. “Let’s just say that my asshole of an ex, Brock, tried to steal a draft of my book from me. Stark got him fired. I’m not sure when or even how I came to be someone Tony sees as a friend.”

“Sounds reasonable to me,” Steve said, letting Bucky lead the way to the suite. He pressed a small card against the card reader and the door beeped as it opened. Bucky slipped his shoes off as soon as they entered the suite, and Steve quickly followed.

The guest suite was just as ornate as Steve expected from the rest of Stark Tower, starting with a large and luxurious sitting room. Steve, though, only had eyes for the bedroom, the door propped open to reveal a massive bed. He was just wondering if the mood had been irrevocably broken when Bucky spun him around and kissed him.

It was a passionate kiss, one full of longing and pent-up desire. Steve gripped Bucky’s hips, before sliding one hand up his back and tangling his fingers in his hair. Steve broke the kiss as he twisted them around so he could push Bucky onto the bed. Bucky bounced lightly, before sprawling on the bed, legs spread in invitation. Steve grinned at him, before pulling the little pouch from his pocket and putting it on the nightstand. He dropped onto the bed, sliding between Bucky’s spread legs and ravishing Bucky’s mouth.

Bucky ran his fingers through Steve’s hair as they kissed, taking their time, exploring what they liked. After far too short a time, Steve pulled back with a groan, and picked up the pouch from the nightstand and offering it to Bucky.

“I came prepared,” he said with a grin. “Not sure what you’d be up for, but I brought us some condoms and some lube.”

“Are these the ones from my medicine cabinet?” Bucky asked, examining the wrapped condoms and packets of lubes. “I’m pretty sure those were expired.”

“They were; I bought you a new box when I went on a supply run today.” Steve gave Bucky a hopeful expression. “How do you want to do this?”

“I seem to remember promising to ride you all night and then fuck you until you’d feel it.” Bucky slipped the pouch under the pillow, and reached for Steve’s tie. “But we need to be wearing fewer clothes for that.”

“Sounds good to me,” Steve said, reaching for Bucky’s buttons. “I can go twice, if you fuck me just right.”

They laughed as they stripped each other, tangling themselves up as they pulled suit jackets, ties, and dress shirts off. Bucky giggled as he pulled Steve’s belt out of his belt loops and unfastened his slacks, discovering that Steve wasn’t wearing underwear.

“Cheeky,” Bucky said, stealing a kiss from Steve’s lips before pressing one to his sternum. Bucky kissed his way down Steve’s chest, awkwardly maneuvering himself to reach as much of Steve as he could with his lips. Steve laughed as he reached around Bucky to undo his slacks. They fell apart, laughing, and pulled their slacks (and socks!) off. Bucky took a second to hook his briefs off before flopping back down on the bed and pulling the pouch of supplies out from under the pillow.

“If you want, there’s a bottle of lube in my toiletries kit.” Bucky said. “Easier to use than the packets?” Steve nodded and quickly walked over to the open carryon suitcase on the desk in the corner, pulling out a small toiletries bag with a shout of triumph. He pulled out the small bottle and came back over to the bed, settling down next to Bucky, who was pulling a condom out of the pouch. He took the lube from Steve and handed him the wrapped condom.

“Give me a moment to prep myself and we can be off,” Bucky said, rolling to the other side of the bed and opening the lube. He poured some on his fingers and reached behind himself with an awkward expression. Steve hesitated for a second, before offering to prep Bucky, who grunted and made a sound, before passing Steve the lube. He rolled onto his back, looking a little apologetic.

“Brock wasn’t big on prep, so I got used to prepping myself,” Bucky admitted, eyes on the comforter. Steve, attempting to keep Bucky from seeing how that made him feel (Steve had already decided this “Brock” was an asshole, but now he was convinced he must have been an abusive asshole), kissed him gently on the mouth. It was a slow and heavy kiss, the sort that promised more. When he felt that he could control his expression, he pulled away from Bucky, pressing a last, lingering kiss to his lips, and slipped his fingers inside Bucky, crooking them slightly. Bucky moaned and Steve grinned down at him, determined to make this as sexy and arousing as possible.

Steve kept that up, slowly, lovingly, fingering Bucky open, until Bucky pushed ineffectively at Steve, saying that he was good and ready. Steve smiled and rolled onto his back, sighing in relief with the lack of pressure on his dick, and taking a second to breathe, before opening the condom and rolling it down his cock. He helped steady Bucky as he readied himself to ride Steve, slowly taking Steve into his body inch by inch, until he was fully sheathed in Bucky’s tight heat.

Steve rested his hands on Bucky’s hips, not guiding, not holding down, just touching, as Bucky let himself adjust for a moment or two, before proceeding to ride Steve as if his life depended on it. Steve kept his hands on Bucky’s hips, feeling his strength, as he planted his feet on the bed and thrust. After a bit, Steve slid his hands up Bucky’s back and pulled him down into a long and dirty kiss. One hand tangled in Bucky’s hair, Steve reached for Bucky’s dick, rubbing his fingers along the sensitive head and giving him a few teasing strokes.

Bucky pushed his hand away, murmuring how he wanted to keep from coming until he fulfilled his promise to Steve of riding him and then fucking him. Steve grinned and pulled Bucky back down for another kiss.

They made out like that, Bucky riding Steve and Steve thrusting up, until Steve came with a sigh into Bucky’s mouth and emptying himself into the condom. Bucky rode him through it, swallowing Steve’s hitched moans, until Steve finished coming. With a last kiss, Bucky slid off of Steve’s dick and helped him dispose of the condom. He grabbed a washcloth from the bathroom, but was back before Steve came down from his afterglow, gently wiping him down. He tossed the washcloth into the bathroom and curled up next to Steve.

Steve pulled Bucky against him, feeling Bucky’s hard dick against his hip, and kissed him. Bucky tangled his hands in Steve’s hair, thrusting weakly at Steve’s hip, teasing himself more than anything else, as Steve’s hands roamed all over his body, touching everywhere he could. He pulled Bucky on top of him, getting better access to Bucky’s back and ass, which he groped with abandon.

Bucky moaned into Steve’s mouth before tearing himself away from Steve and rolling onto the other side of the bed. He pulled a wrapped condom and the bottle of lube from under the pillows, holding them up with a questioning look at Steve. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Steve spread his legs, before asking if Bucky wanted him on his back or his front.

“On your back. I want to see your face,” Bucky said, blushing slightly as he poured lube on his fingers and slowly worked them into Steve’s body. Steve sighed as Bucky did that, reaching up to gently touch his face.

“I like seeing your face, too,” Steve said. It was true - he liked being able to see Bucky’s face while they had sex. He figured it was a Soulbond thing and that he’d always feel that way, that he’s always want to see Bucky’s face.

Bucky added another finger and crooked them in just the right way to send sparks of pleasure up Steve’s spine. He was hard again, his body quickly showing his interest. Bucky worked him open with those elegant fingers that Steve had noticed earlier, those fingers that Steve had wanted to do just that since they’d become Soulmates. When Bucky decided Steve was ready, he unwrapped the condom and rolled it down his dick. He got Steve’s legs over his shoulders and almost bent him in half as he slid inside Steve.

They rocked together like that, time seeming to still, for a few heartbeats, before Steve sighed, relaxing his legs and wrapping them around Bucky’s waist. Bucky thrust experimentally a few times, before finding the angle that drove Steve wild. Then he started thrusting in earnest, fucking Steve as hard as he could, as hard as Steve wanted, Steve gripping his hips hard enough to bruise. The headboard clattered against the wall a few times, causing them to laugh and Steve to wonder aloud, breathlessly, how well soundproofed the guest suites at the Tower were.

“If you can form complete sentences, I have not done my job well enough,” Bucky said in between pants. “Must try harder.”

“I told you I’m a talker,” Steve said, before pulling Bucky down for a searing kiss. One hand in Bucky’s hair, Steve slid his other hand between them and started stroking himself. Bucky moaned into Steve’s mouth and sped up his thrusts. Steve whimpered into Bucky’s mouth, Bucky fucking him through his orgasm before coming himself.

Bucky thrust weakly a few times, spurting into the condom, before pulling out and flopping onto the bed next to Steve. Steve groaned as he sat up and removed Bucky’s condom, disposing of it as he collected a washcloth to clean them up with. A shower would have to wait, but they wouldn’t have to worry about dried come when they woke up. He gently cleaned Bucky, then himself, and tossed the washcloth in the general direction of the bathroom sink before pulling back the covers and getting himself and Bucky tucked under them.

He pulled Bucky against him, running his hands along Bucky’s back as he embraced his Soulmate. He murmured softly to Bucky, both of them half asleep, about how glad he that Bucky was back from California, how glad he was that Bucky was his Soulmate, and how he knew he could easily fall in love with Bucky. With a sleepy smile, Bucky murmured that he’d already fallen in love with Steve, before kissing him softly. Steve smiled into the kiss, and they fell asleep in each others’ arms, safe in one of the most secure buildings in the world. Tomorrow was for figuring out what to tell Peggy, Maria, and Sharon. For figuring out how Bucky wanted to tell the world - if he did - about his Soulbond and Soulmate. For facing the world as Soulmates. Tonight though, tonight was for sleeping in the arms of their Soulmates.

 

 


End file.
